Page 97 of Not Your Average Vixen
“It was sugar cookies.”
“Yeah, a delicious snack for children and their families to enjoy at an event that they look forward to all year. And you pulled it off by mobilizing a group of people to help you bake a gazillion cookies in forty-five minutes. I think you sell yourself short. You could run your own shop.”
She waved off her sister. “Let’s see what they sent,” she answered, ignoring the wholestart your own businesscheerleader routine Lori fell into any time they discussed baking.
She lifted away the tissue to reveal a necklace.
“Look, it’s got an angel pendant. I saw these at a shop in the village. It’s lovely, Birdie!”
Bridget traced a tiny wing with her index finger. “It is, isn’t it?”
Lori took the box and carefully removed the necklace, then stood. “Let’s get this on and see how it looks.”
Bridget rose to her feet and gathered the wisps of hair that had broken free of her bun as Lori draped the chain around her neck.
“Shoot, Birdie! I’m terrible at these clasps,” her sister said, fiddling with the necklace when a rush of cold air hissed through the snug space.
The heavy wooden doors slammed shut as Soren entered the chapel.
“I guess he’s not the devil,” Lori whispered into her ear.
Bridget bit back a grin. “Why are you here?”
She stared at the man. He hadn’t shaved, and when he pulled off his hat, his hair was a sexy disarray of dark curls.
Of course, this Adonis of a man would look good, even hungover.
Soren took a few more steps inside the sanctuary. “I was told to be here.”
“By who?”
“The judge. He said you were up here doing weddingthings,” he replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets as if that maneuver would protect him from thewedding thingsgoing on in the snug space.
He turned his attention to Lori and watched her a beat.
“Did you have something to tell me, Scooter?” her sister asked.
He glanced away. “Tom says you should probably head down to the mountain house. Everyone is getting ready to leave.”
Bridget gasped. “That’s right! You need to get back, so you’re ready to leave for the concert on time.”
“We’re not going?” Soren asked.
She crossed her fingers behind her back. “No, you were so late to RSVP, I wasn’t able to get you a ticket.”
Honestly, she’d totally forgotten about looking into getting him a ticket. But it was better this way. Thank the stars, the Scooter and Tom bro-fest last night didn’t sway Tom into calling off the wedding or doing something crazy that would upset her sister.
Still, the man had sent strippers—a ballsy move with everyone staying in the same location.
She cleared her throat. “And you wouldn’t be able to go even if there was an extra ticket. You have best man duties, and you’ll need to attend to me all night.”
Soren and her sister stared at her.
She twisted an errant lock of hair. “I meant that you have best man duties to attend to, with me. Duties that include helping me in the kitchen and other wedding-only related tasks that require us to be fully clothed. All wedding preparations and no holiday hanky-panky,” she finished, feeling her cheeks heat as she dug herself deeper into the hole.
Why did she let this man turn her brain into scrambled eggs?
“There you are, using thathanky-pankyagain. What’s up with you?” Lori asked with a crinkle to her brow.
